


Topic of Conversation

by ZenyZootSuit



Category: Ozark (TV)
Genre: Author tried to keep them as in character as possible, Bruce is oblivious, Del and Elena have an open relationship, Del and Marty have weird conversations, Del is cryptic, Hand Jobs, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I will probably add onto this because I have no self control, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Marty is a good liar, Marty is not drunk enough for this, Pre-Canon, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Their arrangement is a terrible idea, You were thinking it too don't lie, because I say so!, but let's be real, makeout sessions, this is so self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 16:20:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15585852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZenyZootSuit/pseuds/ZenyZootSuit
Summary: Martin Byrde laundered money for a particularly brutal Mexican drug cartel. Precious little surprised him anymore.





	Topic of Conversation

**Author's Note:**

> I spent a year waiting for someone to write something like this, so eventually I decided to write it myself. (Cmon now, at least some of you were thinkin’ it with me). Don’t mind the perhaps more than slightly OOC characters. I’m aware Marty says in canon that he never cheated on his wife, and I considered that, however I wanted to write smut not pre-slash. I am also aware that their arrangement is a Godawful idea that would never work in real life. Again, creative license. Annnnd I wrote this and posted it the same night sooo all mistakes are mine :) Enjoy

*******

“Do you like men, Marty?”

Martin Byrde laundered money for a particularly brutal drug cartel. Precious little surprised him these days. While on these trips Del invited him and his wife on to one of his numerous resorts, he had learned to anticipate the odd conversations Del was so fond of. That question, however, he had not been expecting.

“I beg your pardon?”

Del took a sip of his whiskey. “Do. You. Like. Men?”

He asked it so casually, as if he were asking instead if Marty was going to the store tomorrow. 

“...Um...” he chuckled nervously. “I’m sorry, I’m not gay.”

“I didn’t ask if you were gay, Marty, I asked if you liked men.”

 _Ok sure, difference there. Ok._

“I am, ah, happily married to a woman.”

“As am I. But you still haven’t answered my question.”

What the hell was he getting at?“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

Del sighed, a hint of impatience in his voice. “Because I do. Like men, that is. And I’m just curious.”

Marty blinked. Del regarded him calmly.

“If my question makes you uncomfortable, you needn’t answer it.”

Del rarely asked a question just to ask it. There was always some sort of game, some sort of test. Marty shrugged.“I...had my dealings with a few men back in college.”

But if Del was asking him, then he already knew that, now didn’t he.

“Interesting.”

Marty drained the rest of his whiskey and set the glass down on the table between them before looking his boss in the eye.

“If I may...”

“You may.”

“It’s not like you to dabble in roundabout bullshit.”

Del smirked and took one more sip of whiskey before he too set his glass down on the table.

“You’re right, it’s not.”

If Marty hadn’t been expecting his boss to ask him if he liked men, then he certainly hadn’t been expecting him to rise smoothly from his chair, stroll around the table, gracefully straddle his lap and kiss the breath out of him, never once breaking eye contact.

And damn the man could kiss. Marty found himself unconsciously returning it. (Yes, that’s right. He couldn’t help but kiss his boss back. His drug dealing cartel boss.)

With a generous amount of effort, he pulled back and broke it.

“Del—“

“Shhhh~”

Del kissed him again, one hand on his jaw and the other arm wrapped around his neck, and as cheesy as it sounds, Marty honest to God saw stars.

Yes, the man could kiss, and to his surprise, Marty was fine with that. A thought of his and Del's wives briefly crossed his mind, but were quickly extinguished by the solid weight of the man in his lap, tongue in his mouth, and half-hard cock against his stomach. 

He had absolutely no idea what to do with his hands, was he even allowed to touch the other man? Maybe, maybe not, but it seemed an odd thing to just leave his hands on the armrests of the chair considering Del was in fact in his lap making out with him, so he settled for wrapping his arms around the other man’s back. At the very least, so he wouldn’t fall.

Del broke off again and said in a slightly more accented voice than normal, “Stop thinking,” before going right back to shoving his tongue down Marty’s throat.

Well, it seemed like this was in fact happening. Marty was not nearly drunk enough for this.

Fuck it.

Bruce may have enjoyed calling him a prude who liked nothing but vanilla ass missionary sex anymore, but he could actually be quite creative when he wanted to be. 

So if he was going to make out/have sex with/go wherever the fuck this was going, he was gonna fucking go all out.

He briefly considered that he might very well get his throat slit for this. That thought too was extinguished by an insistent grind of Del's hips against his.

So yes, that is in fact how he ended up sucking a hickey into Del’s collarbone with his hand down the back of the other man's pants, grinding his boss’s cock into his stomach. The soft pants and occasional appreciative hum coming from the other man were not making him look at this situation any more with his upstairs brain than with his downstairs brain.

He licked a stripe up the side of Del’s neck and resumed their vigorous make out session, which the other man seemed to appreciate, if him shrugging off his suit jacket, untucking Marty’s shirt and shoving his hands up it were anything to go by.

He stopped him there.

“Wait, Del, here?” He gestured around the very open lounge.

“You think too much.” 

Marty quickly broke off the kiss Del initiated.

“That’s what you pay me to do. Think to much.”

Del huffed a laugh.

And that’s how Marty ended up with Camino Del Rio’s hand down the front of his fucking pants.

“Stop. Thinking. So. Much.” He punctuated each word with a stroke of his hand. What a picture they must have made. Marty, hair disheveled, shirt untucked and half pushed up, mouth kiss-bitten, both hands now groping his boss’s ass and grinding his boss’s cock into his thigh. And Del, shirt partially unbuttoned, pants half open, at least two red marks on his throat and collarbone that may or may not blossom into decent sized hickeys, his hand down the front of Marty's pants.

Needless to say, Del looking him dead in the eye while jerking him off was really fucking hot. He licked his lips and Marty almost died. So the obvious next step was of course to grab his boss by the back of the head and crash their mouths together again. Several minutes of borderline vicious making out later, Del pulled back and grinned.

“You know what I like so much about men, Marty?”

Marty breathed out a no and returned to biting at Del’s throat, hands massaging his ass. His boss sighed in pleasure, free hand coming up to the back of Marty’s head in encouragement as he tipped his head to the side to give him more room.

“Quite a lot, actually. First of all, I don’t have to be gentle." He exhaled harshly as Marty bit particularly hard at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. "I would never treat my darling wife like this. Love her to death, but who doesn’t like a bout of seriously rough sex every now and again and I just won’t be as rough as I’d like with her. I respect her too much for that.”

Marty hummed and ground his boss’s cock down harder against his thigh, drawing out the first legitimate moan he’d heard from him.

“Then all the normal things you like about someone. Body, hair, love kissing men with beards. Love it. You ever had someone with a beard suck your cock? Eat you out? Fucking phenomenal.”

He pulled Marty’s head away from his neck and kissed him hard for a moment, hand squeezing at Marty’s cock.

The next bit he whispered, breath ghosting over Marty’s ear, hand never leaving his cock.

“But the thing I love most about men, is that they know their way around a cock.” A few twist of his wrist on the upstrokes had Marty's vision going dark around the edges.

He trailed off into soft Spanish, none of which Marty understood (sure, he could stumble his way through a conversation on a good day, but during sex? HA).

Marty looked his boss in the face. 

“You wanna be rough? Then be rough.”

Del grinned and kissed him hard enough to nearly split his lip. Marty pulled a hand out of the back of Del’s pants to get one on his cock only to have his hand smacked away. They continued in that fashion for a good long while, Del's hand just this side of too dry and too tight, his cock ground hard into Marty's thigh as they kissed just this side of too rough. When Del broke the kiss, he grabbed Marty by the hair and yanked his head back. 

“Come for me, my brilliant advisor, come for me.”

Easy enough request. 

Maybe he liked rough sex too every now and again, so what?

Del was off of him and straightening his clothes before Marty could even begin to think straight again (interesting choice of words).

“You didn’t...” Marty panted. Del looked at him with a raised eyebrow, cheeks still flushed red and pupils blown wide with arousal. “You didn’t come.”

“No.”

Still out of breath, Marty gestured to the obvious tent in the front of Del’s pants.

“Want a hand with that?”

“Do you want to give me one?”

This man was by far the most confusing person Marty had ever worked with. 

“I find it rather rude to leave my partner unattended.”

He’d be a tad embarrassed about it later, but honestly in that moment Marty was so blissed out he would have given him a hand, sucked him off, or maybe done one or two other things, had he asked. 

But instead, Dek started walking away.

This night was too much.

“Am I supposed to follow you?” Marty called after him.

“If you want,” Del answered without stopping or turning around. “But I think your wife might be wondering what's keeping you.”

And with that he was gone.

*******

The room he shared with his wife was dark when he returned.

“Hey babe,” Wendy greeted him sleepily.

“Hey.”

“How were your drinks?”

“Good.”

“Am I allowed to ask what you two talked about?”

“Oh, you know, just business and golf.”

*******

Del didn’t even bother to hide the rather impressive looking hickeys on his neck the following day.

Both Marty and Wendy tried very hard not to stare.

Del mentioned it rather off handedly as they played golf the following day.

“My wife doesn’t care. We have something of an arrangement. I get to sleep with men, if I want, and she with women, if she so desires. Yes, tell me, ah,  _entiende tu mujer_?”

Marty blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

Del rolled his eyes. “For an employee of the cartel, your Spanish really is terrible. Your wife, does she understand? Does she also like women?”

“Ahh...no. Not at all. Not that she’s told me.”

Del sighed dramatically. “Ah, poor Elena, she will be so disappointed. I wasn’t joking when I said she might leave me for your wife, you know. So perhaps this is good news for me.”

 _Smile and nod, Marty, smile and nod_. This was so above his pay grade.

Del didn’t stop there. “Wendy, would she be bothered if she knew you slept with me?”

Marty would hardly call it ‘sleeping with him’ so much as 'slightly drunkenly fucking around,' but he wasn’t stupid enough to argue the point.

“Yes, very much.”

“Now that is a damn shame. You’re a good fuck, Martin Byrde." He strode off to continue their game.

So, so above his pay grade.

Marty followed him.

“Del.”

“Hmm?”

“Why me?”

Del turned to look at him, amused. “Why not?”

Marty stared at him, mildly annoyed. “Um…why not? Well. You _are_ high up in the ranks of the second largest drug cartel in Mexico.”

“So?”

This was fucking unbelievable. “So you could have anyone you want. People a little bit more interesting than a middle-aged married father of two who lauders money for you. That’s another point. Sleeping with a coworker gets real messy real fast, which I'm sure you're away of.”

Del huffed a laugh.

Marty was silent for a moment, waiting for him to respond. When his boss showed no interest in doing so, he pressed on. “So, my question remains. Why me? What’s your angle?”

Del twirled a golf club between his fingers. “You’re absolutely right, Marty. You do lauder money for me. And I’d say that is a position that requires a great deal of trust.” The other man moved to stand directly in front of Marty. “So I decided to foster a little bit more trust between the two of us.”

Marty blinked at him. “By sleeping with me? And what if I’d said no?”

“Didn’t think you would.”

“…And why not?”

“You think I don’t know exactly how eye catching the young men who work for me are, or that I didn’t choose them particularly to be so? I saw you looking.”

… _Well shit._

Del smirked at him. “Why? Regretting it, are you?”

  _So so so out of his league, this game._

“…No. No, not really.”

“Good.” Del continued walking. “You’re right about another thing. It is extremely messy to sleep with coworkers. However you and I are in the unique situation that we only see each other when I come to check on our operations. It will only get messy if you screw up laundering my money. Refrain from doing that, and it doesn’t get messy. Do that, and it was going to get messy whether or not you were sleeping with me.”

 _You had to approach this with your downstairs brain, didn’t you, Marty?_ he berated himself.

“Also,” Del continued. “I just wanted to.” 

Marty gazed out over the course as Del lined up his next shot. “And if I no longer wish to continue the arrangement?”

“Then don’t fucking continue it, this isn’t rocket science, Marty.” He took his shot and watched the golf ball fly across the field. “All I am proposing is that when I see you, so long as you’ve not done anything stupid, we have a little fun, continue to foster trust between the two of us. But if you’d rather not, don’t. It’s up to you.”

He’d be crazy to accept that.

“…Your employees don’t care that you…sleep with other men?”

“Well that’s my affair, isn’t it. Ah, yes, I should say, just as I’m not mentioning to your wife that you slept with me, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t spread around the arrangement I have with my wife. That’s another way you could potentially make things messy.”

_What the bloody fuck was he thinking last night? Should have run the minute Del asked his question. He’d be fucking batshit crazy to take this._

“Ok. Got it. Appreciate it. And ah, sounds good to me. I’m in.”

“Excellent.”

He could not believe he just fucking did that.

*******

“Man, you look good today. You look like you just got laid,” Bruce commented to Marty rather loudly as they were drinking at the bar later that night.

Del smirked from across the room where he was observing a game of pool.

“Thanks for pointing that out, pal,” Marty grumbled.

Bruce slapped his shoulder with a grin.

 

**El Fin**

**Author's Note:**

> Their interaction is actually somewhat based off an interaction I had myself with a woman a while back, however it didn’t end nearly as well for me as it did for Marty. May or may not add onto this later


End file.
